flavour of the day, grapefruit and cookies 'n' cream with malt
Story: Timeless { backstory | index }
Title: Sound Advice
Rating: G
Challenge: FOTD: afflatus, Cookies ‘n’ Cream #24: play, Grapefruit #4: tough act to follow
Toppings/Extras: malt
Wordcount: 589
Summary: Jacob Graham imparts recycled wisdom.
Notes: Apparently I’m in a silly mood today. Jacob’s been listening to the portable CD player far too much. The malt prompt isn’t used literally, but the lyrics to the song reflect the situation on board the Kraken quite well. Also, balloons = ephemeral? Something like that! Afflatus: a divine imparting of knowledge; inspiration. Grapefruit PFAH: Jacob : 99 red balloons.
“Alright, my son?” Jacob Graham asked in his roaring accent-a mingle of Irish, Devonshire and fainter splices of every other dialect hanging around the isles of the Caribbean. He strolled across the deck and lounged back against one of the deckhouses, grinning over at the tall figure of Isaac Prowse.
“Son?” he asked, turning his head towards him slightly. Then he exhaled lightly and looked back out towards the sea.
“You’ve been a little low in yer spirits lately, Prowsey,” Jacob said after a brief silence. He folded his darkly tanned arms and continued to look at him, clearly amused, metal tooth glinting.
Isaac didn’t bother replying.
“Mate,” Jacob said, untucking one hand to wag a finger at him, “you know what you’ve got to do? You’ve got to break free.”
“Right.”
“You’ve got to break free from her lies; she’s so self-satisfied… you don’t need her,” Jacob continued, starting to get as enthusiastically stuck in as he always did. In Isaac’s opinion, he always did like the sound of his voice far too much. Isaac turned to face him, raising an eyebrow incredulously. “God knows,” Jacob said, “God knows, you’ve got to break free.”
“It’s not any of your business,” Isaac replied, obviously rather disarmed by something resembling sense-at least to him-coming from Jacob Graham’s mouth.
“It’s strange but it’s true,” he continued in a serious voice, “she can’t get over the way you love her like you do… but you have to be sure when you walk out that door…”
“Where are you getting this from?”
“Hey, come on.” Jacob raised his arms. “I am wise. Like a monkey.”
Isaac grinned for the first time in a few days.
“I’m going to kill you when we get back to 1646,” he said.
“You’re goin’ to try,” Jacob corrected him. “These things don’t change.”
Humming in the back of his throat, Isaac’s dark eyes drifted to the deck and stayed there. His mind was rather a fog just then but he knew that a lack of change was no longer what he wanted.
He liked the future. Well, that wasn’t quite true. He liked how things were just then, encapsulated in that hazy summertime bubble on board the Kraken, no control over their fates but with no pressing matters either. He liked the easygoing banter, like the sea-shanties crowing over the thrum of the sea against the ship’s wooden hull, the feel of spray against his cheek and a woman in his arms…
His jaw tightened.
It was ephemeral-what was occurring was to be a fleeting state of existence. Soon it would be over. Part of him was relieved. The faster he got away from the person who was messing up his head more than anyone else-even Ashdown-had ever managed, the better it was for everyone.
Of course it is, he thought, trying to convince himself without a trace of irony, feeling intense and inexplicable guilt even as the thought crossed his mind.
“Will you stop bothering me?”
“Don’t stop me now,” Jacob said, springing away across the deck like a lamb that had just found its legs, rollicking quite happily through the riggings. Isaac reflected that it must occasionally be quite nice to be as much of a fool as Jacob Graham was. The captain shouted back over his shoulder: “I’m having such a good time!”
“He’s having a ball,” a member of the crew barked from somewhere in the region of Isaac’s elbow, making him jump out of his skin.
Title: Sound Advice
Rating: G
Challenge: FOTD: afflatus, Cookies ‘n’ Cream #24: play, Grapefruit #4: tough act to follow
Toppings/Extras: malt
Wordcount: 589
Summary: Jacob Graham imparts recycled wisdom.
Notes: Apparently I’m in a silly mood today. Jacob’s been listening to the portable CD player far too much. The malt prompt isn’t used literally, but the lyrics to the song reflect the situation on board the Kraken quite well. Also, balloons = ephemeral? Something like that! Afflatus: a divine imparting of knowledge; inspiration. Grapefruit PFAH: Jacob : 99 red balloons.
“Alright, my son?” Jacob Graham asked in his roaring accent-a mingle of Irish, Devonshire and fainter splices of every other dialect hanging around the isles of the Caribbean. He strolled across the deck and lounged back against one of the deckhouses, grinning over at the tall figure of Isaac Prowse.
“Son?” he asked, turning his head towards him slightly. Then he exhaled lightly and looked back out towards the sea.
“You’ve been a little low in yer spirits lately, Prowsey,” Jacob said after a brief silence. He folded his darkly tanned arms and continued to look at him, clearly amused, metal tooth glinting.
Isaac didn’t bother replying.
“Mate,” Jacob said, untucking one hand to wag a finger at him, “you know what you’ve got to do? You’ve got to break free.”
“Right.”
“You’ve got to break free from her lies; she’s so self-satisfied… you don’t need her,” Jacob continued, starting to get as enthusiastically stuck in as he always did. In Isaac’s opinion, he always did like the sound of his voice far too much. Isaac turned to face him, raising an eyebrow incredulously. “God knows,” Jacob said, “God knows, you’ve got to break free.”
“It’s not any of your business,” Isaac replied, obviously rather disarmed by something resembling sense-at least to him-coming from Jacob Graham’s mouth.
“It’s strange but it’s true,” he continued in a serious voice, “she can’t get over the way you love her like you do… but you have to be sure when you walk out that door…”
“Where are you getting this from?”
“Hey, come on.” Jacob raised his arms. “I am wise. Like a monkey.”
Isaac grinned for the first time in a few days.
“I’m going to kill you when we get back to 1646,” he said.
“You’re goin’ to try,” Jacob corrected him. “These things don’t change.”
Humming in the back of his throat, Isaac’s dark eyes drifted to the deck and stayed there. His mind was rather a fog just then but he knew that a lack of change was no longer what he wanted.
He liked the future. Well, that wasn’t quite true. He liked how things were just then, encapsulated in that hazy summertime bubble on board the Kraken, no control over their fates but with no pressing matters either. He liked the easygoing banter, like the sea-shanties crowing over the thrum of the sea against the ship’s wooden hull, the feel of spray against his cheek and a woman in his arms…
His jaw tightened.
It was ephemeral-what was occurring was to be a fleeting state of existence. Soon it would be over. Part of him was relieved. The faster he got away from the person who was messing up his head more than anyone else-even Ashdown-had ever managed, the better it was for everyone.
Of course it is, he thought, trying to convince himself without a trace of irony, feeling intense and inexplicable guilt even as the thought crossed his mind.
“Will you stop bothering me?”
“Don’t stop me now,” Jacob said, springing away across the deck like a lamb that had just found its legs, rollicking quite happily through the riggings. Isaac reflected that it must occasionally be quite nice to be as much of a fool as Jacob Graham was. The captain shouted back over his shoulder: “I’m having such a good time!”
“He’s having a ball,” a member of the crew barked from somewhere in the region of Isaac’s elbow, making him jump out of his skin.